Speaking with relatives about family history, I am often told to keep this piece of information between you, me and the gate post. Respecting sensibilities, I will share my family stories entwine with historical events from Copiah, Jefferson and Lincoln Counties, Mississippi, from gate post to gate post.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Many Rivers to Cross - Remembering a Local Activist

The first time I voted was during the time period covered in the last episode of Many Rivers to Cross. I was 19 years old in 1974 voting in a local election.

My immediate family were not activists, not political, and I don't think any members participated in the Civil Rights Movement. My mother never registered to vote; she didn't believe voting would improve her life. An uncle and aunt didn't see the benefits of voting, they depended on God. Another uncle never believed white folks would change. Aunt Alice did register to vote and I think she first voted in the 1968 presidential election. My father first voted in the 1976 presidential election.

Reverend Sutton, neighbor and assistant principal of the neighborhood elementary school, strongly encouraged his former students to register to vote as soon as they turned 18.

A movement to a more perfect union occurred when I was a teenager. Giving 18 years old the right to vote was an extension of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. The provision was struck down by the Supreme Court, which concluded Congress didn't have the authority to set the voting age for state elections.

Pressure was put on Congress and state houses to pass a constitutional amendment because it was unfair to send 18, 19, 20 years old to fight in the Vietnam War when they couldn't vote for or against their elected leaders. Within four months after the Congress submitted it to the states, the amendment was ratified by three-fourths of the state legislatures.

"The right of citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age."

The Twenty-Sixth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution
Reverend Sutton encouraged me to register. He worked with the Registrar's Office to allow us to register at the school for a couple Saturday mornings. Reverend Sutton knew most of us didn't have transportation and many didn't have the support or encouragement from our households.

Many Rivers to Cross didn't cover the local activist, people whose names would never make a history book. The local activist knew their communities and how to work within their communities to help others cross one more river.

4 comments:

The local activist plays a very important role at the grassroots level. I can't remember anyone ever encouraging me to vote when I was young. I'm about the same age as you--but I don't think that I voted in the first elections that I would have been eligible to vote in.

Mr Sutton was my 9th grade science teacher, lived one street from me, he was a pastor of one of the churches in the community, assistant principal, and very passionate about getting people register to vote. A couple of friends registered the month of their 18th birthday. It took me a year.

My first eligible election would have been 1968. After watching the police running amuck and beating people down outside of the Democratic Convention in Chicago, I refused to vote. I remember being at my grandmother Cleage's dinner table and my father telling me I should vote because I could vote for a third party and if I didn't vote at all my protest wouldn't be counted. My Uncle Louis told him I must have a good reason and leave me alone. I was 21. Voting for Nixon wasn't an option. I voted ever since then.

I agree, the series left a lot out. I know it was only 6 weeks, but still, I was disappointed.

Grandbundle's Corner

About Me

A member of the sandwich generation taking care of an adult daughter and mother, both with brain disorders. I love genealogy and consider myself a community researcher. Researching the communities of Caseyville, Hazlehurst and Union Church, Mississippi, and wherever else we rooted.

Winter Bare

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.Its had tacks in it,And splinters,And boards torn up,And places with no carpet on the floor---Bare.But all the timeI'se been a-climbin' on,And reachin' landin's,And turnin' cornersAnd sometimes goin' in the darkWhere there ain't been no light.So boy, don't you turn back.Don't you set down on the steps"Cause you finds it's kinder hard.Don't you fall now---For I'se still goin', honey,I'se still climbin',And life for me ain't been no crystal stair